You seduce me, lonely in your hell
             naked and hungry, I crawl into your cell...
             a virtual drugstore is piled on your bed.
             I can’t resist with your tongue inside my head...

             How can everything be justified by you?

             you get off on watching me bleed...
             you get off on feeding my disease.
             this time will be perfect you explain,
             but your tongue’s as deadly as a needle in my vein...

             How can everything be justified by you?
             How can my demise be justified by you?

             I’m so tired of living for your touch.
             I’m so tired of needing you so much.

             How can everything be justified by you?
             When did I decide to be crucified by you?
             How can everything be justified by you?
             By you...

             “Tell me Buffy, what do you see when you look at me?”

             Running her pained eyes over his face, she saw Angel.  She saw the face
             that she had loved with pure innocence.  Everything was the same, the way
             he felt, the way he smelled, the way he looked.

             Until she looked into his eyes.  His eyes were the eyes of a
             killer.  Remorseless.  Even if he never said a word, as long as she could
             look into his eyes, she would know.  He was Angelus, not Angel.

             “I see you as you really are.  I see a monster.”

             “Must you resort to name-calling?”

             “If it fits demon.”

             Chuckling he rubbed his pelvis against her, delighting in the slight
             unwilling arch of her hips.  “Oh you poor little girl.  Didn’t your mommy
             tell you that monsters don’t exist?”  Bringing his mouth towards her neck
             he lightly sucked and nibbled on the smooth column.  Hearing the shallow
             gasps she tried to hold back, he continued to run his lips over her
             sensitive spots.

             Tightly closing her eyes in a useless effort to close off her body to the
             sensations of his beautiful mouth, Buffy said “My mom also said that if I
             ever did see monsters to tell them to go away and then they’d vanish.  Go
             away.”

             “Well it seems that your mommy lied to you twice.  Monsters DO
             exist.  And they won’t go away.  Ever.”  His mouth moved up to swoop down
             on her lips, devouring her tender mouth.

             Buffy tried to break away from his kiss, but it was in vain.  Every time
             she moved her head, he quickly followed.  Finally she bit down on his
             tongue---hard.  With a hiss Angelus tore his mouth away from
             hers.  Sitting up, with his thighs straddling her hips, he brought up a
             finger and gingerly touched his injured tongue.  Dark eyes narrowed in
             fury, he yanked her up while simultaneously moving off of her.

             Shaking her by the lapels of her jacket, he promised “Bitch!  I’ll make
             you beg for that!”  Snaking an arm around her waist, he trapped her arms
             between their bodies.  With his other hand, Angelus held Buffy’s head,
             his fingers deeply entangled in her hair.

             Forced to look at him, Buffy could see the towering rage reflected in his
             eyes.  As much as she hated to admit to herself, she had responded to his
             kiss.  Before she had become lost, she thought ‘What is wrong with you
             Buffy?  He betrayed you.  With other women.  He’s only using
             you.  Again.’  That was why she had deliberately provoked him by biting
             his tongue.

             In a honeyed tone she asked “What’s the matter Angelus?  Don’t like
             getting bit?  You like to dish it out, but you can’t take it huh?”

             “You tell me later on when I return the favor.”

             “What makes you think you’ll even get a chance?”  Hardening her voice she
             warned “I’m not going to make it easy.  If I were you, I wouldn’t count
             on walking out of  here.”

             “You think I want to kill you?  No, my darling idiot, I don’t want you
             dead.  I never have.  At least I haven’t for a long time.  If you were
             dead, what fun would I have?”

             “I hate you Angelus.”

             Giving her head a hard shake he dropped the false cheer and growled back
             “I hate you too.”  Voraciously he bit and kissed her neck.   Running his
             tongue along her jaw, he warned “If you bite my tongue again I’ll make
             you bleed” before thrusting it into her mouth.

             His kiss was brutal, Buffy felt as if she couldn’t breathe.  His arm was
             crushing her against his bare chest.  She was totally entrapped.  Even
             though Angelus’ intent didn’t include trying to kill her because of
             Daniel, it didn’t mean she was out of danger.  The greatest danger not
             necessarily being Angelus, but herself.

             Even now exhilaration was flooding her weak body.

             Rapidly her logic faded to give into carnality.

             For several minutes Angelus feasted on her sweet mouth.  Slowly releasing
             her hair and her body, he warily waited for her to try to bolt from the
             bed.  She just knelt there with her eyes closed and her breath coming out
             in a rapid outpouring.  When she finally opened her eyes, he coldly
             smiled.

             “Still hate me?”  Jerking slightly from the frigidness of his question,
             she shook her head.  “No?”  Mirthlessly laughing he sardonically said
             “Why am I not surprised?  If anything, you are predictable Slayer.”

             His arm shot out to yank her jacket off.  Then he ripped his shirt off
             her body.  She let out a muffled shriek when he pulled her across his lap
             and slipped her shoes of her feet and threw them off the bed.  Holding
             her down with his hand on the small of her back, he jerked her pants
             off.

             Running his hand in a mockery of a caress up her legs, he stopped at the
             white cotton panties that flashed brightly against her tanned
             body.  Slipping his hand under the elastic he easily ripped them off her
             body.  “Didn’t I tell you to always wear silk or satin panties
             Buffy?”  His hand came down fiercely across her bottom.  “Didn’t I tell
             you I never want to see you in anything else?”  His hand rained down a
             torrent of blows that quickly turned her bottom a bright cherry-red
             color.

             Sobbing she pressed down against his rock-hard thighs, trying to find an
             escape from the pain.  This only caused her sensitive kernel of desire to
             be rubbed against him, throwing her body into a cauldron of burning pain
             and white-hot pleasure.  She arched up to get off his lap only to have
             Angelus push her back down.

             After several minutes of his unrelenting punishment, Buffy was crying in
             great, heaving fits.  It wasn’t just from the physical torment but the
             humiliation of being so totally subjugated.
             Suddenly the blows stopped.  Angelus just silently contemplated her
             shuddering form while he absently stroked her back with the tips of his
             fingers. In a deceptively soothing tone he asked “Will I ever see you in
             cotton again?”  His large hand  then grasped one blistering cheek,
             delighting in her moan of pain.

             “N-no.”

             “Good girl.”  He then massaged her bottom with a gentle stroke.  Her
             body’s movements of protest gradually eased as she gave into the soothing
             rhythm of his caress. Lowering his head, he laid a wet, open-mouthed kiss
             on each of her abused cheeks.

             Murmuring his name Buffy felt as if she had received an absolution from
             her lover.  He had hurt her, but now he was going to make it better.  He
             that giveth pain will taketh it away.

             Only if thy faith is strong enough

             Thoughts of how she had just committed blasphemy flitted through her head
             before being dismissed.  She already was guilty of far more blasphemous
             acts that this.  If the Lord needed to judge her, he had far more blacker
             deeds to convict her than her thoughts.

             Gently turning her over, Angelus gathered her small form in his
             arms.  Resting his chin on the top of her tousled hair he asked “Tell me
             what happened with Daniel.  I want the truth.  If you lie to me it will
             go worse for you.  Tell me.”

             Hoarsely she answered “Angelus I swear to you that I didn’t sleep with
             him.”

             “I asked you to tell me happened.  I want to know everything.  Don’t make
             me ask again.”

             “He and I...we’re just friends.  Daniel cares alot about me, more than he
             should.  One night he kissed me and I, well, kissed him back.  We came
             close, but I couldn’t at the end.”

             “Did he see you naked?”

             Swallowing against the fear of his reaction, she shakily said “Y-yes.  He
             did.”  She waited to hear his explosion in vain.  He only emotionlessly
             asked “What else?”

             Warily Buffy asked “What do you mean?”

             Impatience made his voice snappish.  “Well, did he go down on you?  You
             know, lick you, eat you, perform cunnilingus?”
             Staring at his chest she answered “No.  I...we didn’t get that far.  I
             mean...what I’m trying to say is...I didn’t let him.”

             “He wanted to?”

             “Angelus...please, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

             Pleasantly he responded “Tough shit baby.  I’m not finished asking you
             questions.  You will answer each one, even if it takes the rest of your
             life.  Now, why didn’t you let him?  I know how your body works
             Buff.  Why wouldn’t you let him do it?”

             Moving her head from under his chin she looked into his frigid
             eyes.  “Because he wasn’t you.  Because no matter how hard I tried to
             pretend that his touch was better than yours, it just wasn’t.”  Bringing
             a hand up to touch his unyielding jaw, she achingly whispered “He just
             wasn’t you.”

             Unwillingly touched by the sincerity of her words, Angelus reached up to
             envelope her hand in his.  “So then you threw him out?”

             “I asked him to leave.”

             “Which he did of course?”

             “Of course.”

             “So, you kissed him, got naked with him in this bed, letting him see all
             that was mine, and then asked him to leave?  Well, it hardly seems worth
             it lover.  You betrayed me without at least getting a come out of
             it.”  His hand tightened crushingly around hers.

             Exasperation laced her words as she said “What would you have preferred
             Angelus?  Either way, I’m fucked, right?  Whether I did or didn’t, it
             doesn’t matter to you because you see this as a betrayal.”

             “Yes Buffy, as you eloquently put it, either way you’re fucked.  But, if
             someone else had made you come...at least you’d have that comfort.” He
             released her hand and got off the bed, surprisingly putting Buffy gently
             down in the process.

             Agitatedly he began to pace.  His fury at the situation was unbearable,
             but he felt as if he didn’t know what to do with her.  It was as if he
             couldn’t maintain his ire towards her.

             Was he losing his touch?

             Running a hand through his hair he felt stumped.  Damn he was turning
             into a pussy!  Why couldn’t he go over there and beat the shit out of
             her?  Dammit!  What in God-forsaken Hell was wrong with him?  He was
             supposed to be learning a little something about how Love was the
             anti-Christ to all that was evil in the world like himself.

             FUCK!

             ‘Think Angelus, think!  Think of Buffy’s naked body next to that punk’s
             body!  Think of that piece of crap running his hands all over her and
             think of how she must have liked it!’  Good, he could feel a stirring of
             anger at Buffy returning to his mind.

             ‘Look at her sitting in that bed.  The same bed that you just fucked her
             in.  The same bed that she almost fucked someone else in.’  More anger
             pumped into his mind like a deadly venom.

             ‘You pitiful excuse for a vampire.  Where’s your control?  She’s probably
             laughing at you for being as wimpy as Angel.  Look you, pacing like a
             fool.  Have you no sense?  Buffy Summers has a new lap dog and his name
             is Angelus.  Next time she has the urge to screw someone will you
             politely bow out and then afterwards ask her if she had a good time?’

             That did it!

             Angelus was completely re-immersed in his fury.  Abruptly stopping in the
             midst of his pacing, he let his eyes run over Buffy’s lush form.  She was
             sitting with her back against the iron headboard, partially covered by a
             rumpled sheet with a tiny floral print.  Her tousled blond hair lay on
             her shoulders.  A few unruly locks partially covered a  plump breast,
             allowing only the merest hint of a dark nipple to peek through.

             All in all, she made an alluring disheveled sight.

             He had the urge, no NEED to see the Slayer so thoroughly humiliated that
             she would never think to look at another man ever again.  He yearned to
             see her writhe in the dark pain of ecstasy.

             Silently he vowed he would break her this night.

             “Come here Buffy” he solemnly commanded.

             The determined gleam in his eyes did not bode well for her.  Warily she
             inched her way from the headboard only to be stopped by a motion of his
             hand.  His voice flowing over her like smooth silk, he said “No Buffy.  I
             want you to crawl to me, darling.  On your pretty hands and
             knees.”  Seeing her hesitation he barked “Now!”

             Her mind balked, but Buffy’s wretched sense of obedience had become to
             deeply ingrained to disobey him.  Swallowing the lump of shame lodged in
             her throat, she crept off the bed.  Once she was on all fours, she slowly
             crawled towards Angelus.

             With each inch that she traveled, she entered a state of complete
             awareness.  She was aware of the chipped and scarred hardwood floor
             digging into her palms and knees.  She was aware of the distant ticking
             of a clock.  She was aware of the dull, rhythmic sound of water slowly
             dripping in the kitchen sink.

             Most of all, she was aware of how degrading it was to crawl to her
             addiction.

             For her addiction.

             Once she reached his bare feet, she waited for his next command.  How
             long would he make her wait?  Would he immediately force her to his
             twisted desires?  Or would he ignore her, for hours maybe, while she
             knelt at his feet like some prized pet?  Would she be forced to endure
             the pride-stripping ignobility of feeling helpless, subject to his whim
             and all the while naked at his feet?

             Oh, but what feet he had.  How unfair was the unholy force of nature that
             created such a creature that not only had such perfect dark beauty, but
             also had such perfect feet?

             As if he had read her thoughts, Angelus ordered “Kiss them.”  Willingly
             Buffy obliged, lowering her head to brush her lips over one foot and then
             the other.  Fervently she kissed both feet, running her lips and tongue
             over his toes and up to his ankles.

             Score:  Angelus 1  Buffy 0

             His feet shifted slightly, silently enjoying her adulation.  Buffy’s
             obvious enthusiasm surprised him, but knowing her passionate nature
             Angelus realized that she turned her task into one of erotic
             self-pleasure.  It was time to turn things up another notch.

             “Enough.”  When she didn’t immediately stop, he jerked his foot out in a
             quick kick, knocking her back to fall on her side.  “When I tell you to
             do something, lover, I expect you to do it.  Now follow me.”  Arrogantly
             not bothering to see if she would obey, Angelus walked towards the
             couch.  When he turned around Buffy was right there, as he expected,
             still on all fours.

             Imperiously he ordered “Stay” and went over to his discarded
             coat.  Picking it up, he rifled his hand in one pocket.  With a
             exclamation of triumph, Angelus dropped the coat to the floor and padded
             over to Buffy.  His lips parted to reveal a wicked grin.  “Remember these
             baby?”

             Numbly Buffy recognized the golden objects in his hand.  One of them was
             a pair of chains made of small gold links.  In each link a flawless
             sapphire was set, resulting in hundreds of priceless stones.  Angelus had
             it designed especially for her, or so he had told her.  It was made to go
             around her waist, settling low on her hips, with the connecting chain
             going right between her legs.

             Once put on, it would rub and tease her unmercifully if there wasn’t any
             slack on the chain.  The length could be adjusted according to his whim,
             controlled by a hidden clasp.  At times in the past, he would have the
             chain hang so low knowing that Buffy would be forced to wear longer, more
             concealing clothes in order to keep others from seeing it.

             Even though it looked incredibly delicate, it was surprisingly
             strong.  Not strong enough that she couldn’t break it, but strong enough
             that their energetic couplings never did it any damage.

             Buffy alternately loved and loathed it.  She loathed what it stood for,
             but she loved that no matter where she was Angelus could touch her, if
             only through his gift.

             After he placed it on her, it never came off her body.  There were times
             after a heated argument with Angelus that she would grip the chain in one
             hand, ready to yank it off, but she never did.  At least not until the
             night she found about Cynthia and all the others.

             The second object dangling from his raised hand was also made out of
             gold.  It was a wide collar consisting of dozens of ropes all tightly
             interlocked.  In the center a large, also flawless, sapphire glittered in
             the half-light.  Once fitted around her neck, the sturdy golden chain,
             the third object held in his hand, could be attached to the collar, in
             essence making it a leash.

             Albeit an extremely expensive leash, but a leash nonetheless.

             “I see you haven’t forgotten your presents.  They looked so...decadent on
             you Buff.”  Musing out loud he studied the body chain.  “You’ll never
             believe how much this cost to have it repaired.  Even though I thought I
             was getting cheated, I had to have it fixed.”

             Tersely she stated “Really you shouldn’t have.”

             Grinning at her Angelus said “No, I couldn’t let such a work of art
             remain destroyed.  Afterall, I knew I would be running into you again and
             I know just much you LOVED wearing this.”  Walking back to her, he
             snapped his fingers in the old gesture of ‘Get up’ and fastened the chain
             around her.  Sadistically he left no slack in the chain at all.  Every
             movement Buffy would make would soon have her aroused to a unbearable
             pitch.
             Stepping slightly away from her, his eyes lustfully surveyed the erotic
             vision she made.  The tininess of her waist became emphasized and the
             sight of the chain bisecting her lower lips brought a surge of lust to
             his already lust-filled body.  His eyes bored into her pussy; the sight
             of the sapphires twinkling amidst her tawny curls was one that he had
             always enjoyed, and hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing for far too long.

             Thickly he said “Oh yes, it was definitely worth it.  I would pay ten
             times that amount just to see you like this.”  Watching a flush creep up
             her body from her growing desire and his intense words, Angelus fitted
             the collar around her slim neck and then attached the chain to
             it.  Casually he said “Fortunately I got my money back---”

             “How?” Buffy sharply asked.

             Darkly laughing he answered “How else would I have gotten it back?  I
             killed him.”  Let her be reminded that she belonged to evil.  Besides she
             didn’t need to know that the pervert liked to touch little boys...

             Pain glazing her eyes, Buffy felt a tension grip her.  Immediately she
             felt sick.  To know that the last human that touched this was murdered by
             him...

             It wasn’t because he felt cheated, he killed for the joy of it.  Or he
             killed when he was reminded of things that he didn’t want to think about.
             At the time that the chain was repaired, it was most likely thoughts of
             her that caused Angelus to take his deadly anger on someone else.

             Seeing the sickness twisting her features in a grimace of disgust,
             Angelus cheerfully stated “Don’t feel too bad for him Buff.  He was
             already old and didn’t suffer...too much.”

             “You disgust me!  I hate you!  I hate it when you touch me---”

             In a flash his hand shot out and backhanded her.  Jovially he chided
             “What did I tell you about lying lover?”  Jerking the chain down, Buffy
             was back on all fours again.

             Pleasantly continuing as if nothing untoward had happened he stated “Now
             I know it’s been two years since your training but I trust you haven’t
             forgotten everything.”  Strolling to the bathroom, with the leash in one
             hand and Buffy keeping pace next to his leg, he ordered “Draw a bath and
             make it hot.”

             Mentioning the jeweler didn’t put his Slayer in the most receptive mood,
             but it once again proved to her that she loved a being of evil.  There
             were going to be no illusions tonight to what he was and always would
             be.  His temporary insanity with the thought of being in love with Buffy
             would vanish once he got on with her torments.

             He would hurt her this night, not only physically but mentally and
             emotionally.  He would strip away any and every barrier that she chose to
             put up. He would force her to bare her heart and soul to him. Then he
             would ruthlessly crush them and in the process, crush her.

             It was better for both of them this way.

             Leaning against the doorjamb, he silently observed Buffy prepare their
             bath.  When she turned to him with a box of Mr. Bubbles in her hand, he
             nodded his head to her unspoken question.  Once the tub was frothing with
             bubbles and filled to the correct level, Buffy turned back to him.

             “Undress me.”

             “With my teeth?” she archly asked.

             Crookedly smiling he said “Not this time.  You may use your hands, but be
             quick about it.”  Taking the few steps between them, she dropped down to
             her knees.  Her nimble fingers rapidly had his pants
             unbuttoned.  Reaching up slightly, she tugged the waist down and soon his
             erection popped free, lightly hitting her in the cheek.

             Quickly looking up Buffy caught Angelus’ amused look, which caused her to
             blush brightly.  Dropping her gaze in embarrassment, she pulled the pants
             down his legs until it was down to his ankles.

             For a brief moment she rested her face against his cool, sinewy
             thigh.  He was her enemy, he was a killer, he was a demon, he was
             everything she stood against.

             He was also everything in the world to her that he wasn’t supposed to be.
 

             She loved him.  Or maybe it was Angel that she loved and this was the
             closest she could get to him so she deluded herself into thinking that it
             was Angelus that she loved.  Or maybe she loved both.  If so, the lines
             had gotten blurred so long ago that she couldn’t remember anymore.

             All she did know was that her hatred and her love was a living thing to
             itself.  The love and burgeoning lust she had felt for Angel was nothing
             compared to what she felt for Angelus.  Every part of body responded to
             him in a way that was illogical, but powerful in its’ insanity.

             Rationally she knew that she shouldn’t be playing these games with him,
             but she couldn’t stop.  While she hated feeling like an indistinguishable
             sex slave to him, she loved being possessed by him.

             Besides, if things became too much she could always get out of it.
             ‘Sure you can Buffy’ an inner voice jeered at her.  ‘Things became too
             much the first night you slept with Angelus.  You can fool others but you
             can’t fool yourself.  You will never get out of this because you DON’T
             want to get out it.’

             Her reverie was broken by a rude jerk of the chain.  Pulling her face
             away from him, she slid each pant-leg off when he lifted a foot
             up.  Completely nude, Angelus climbed in and sank into the hot, bubbly
             water.  Closing his eyes and laying his head back against the white
             tiles, he would have sighed in bliss if he had the breath.

             Without opening his eyes he ordered “Bathe me.”

             Reaching over for the soap, Buffy was stopped by the clamp of his hand on
             her wrist.  “No I want you in here with me.”

             Carefully climbing into the tub, Buffy inhaled sharply because of the
             heat of the water.  Angelus always liked his water almost scalding, and
             even though she liked really hot water, it was too hot.  Gingerly
             settling over him she sat on his lower abs.

             Noticing her discomfort, he insincerely apologized.  “Sorry babe.  I
             forget how delicate you humans are.”

             Falsely smiling she said “It’s not a problem, really.  At the most I’ll
             have a few blisters, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.  For a human that
             is.”

             Gathering the bar of soap, she rolled it over and over in her hands until
             they were fully lathered.  She first started with his chest, sensuously
             kneading the muscles and feeling every inch of his torso.

             Her eyes flitted shut as she caressed and massaged him.  Because of the
             temperature of the bath, his skin had lost its’ customary coolness and
             felt warm like a human’s.  She allowed herself to daydream and imagine
             what it would be like if Angelus wasn’t a vampire but a human.  If he
             were capable of kinder emotions, if he loved her like she loved him...

             Unbeknownst to her, Angelus had been watching her for several
             moments.  The feline look of pleasure had transformed to tremulous
             joy.  What was she thinking?  What would cause her to look so happy?  His
             eyes lowered to watch her small hands.  They had stopped their circular,
             kneading motions instead to alternately lay palm down on his chest and
             then lay palm up.  It was as if she were feeling the warmth of his
             skin...

             His eyes took on a flinty cast as he surmised what she was thinking
             about.  Dipping his hand into the water, he flung a large amount of it at
             her face.  She immediately reared back sputtering, her blue eyes narrowed
             with outrage.  “Don’t waste your time thinking about the impossible
             Buffy.”
             “What would you know what I’m thinking about?  Anyways, I wasn’t thinking
             of you.”

             Sardonically chuckling, he said “Oh really?  Please enlighten me.  What
             were you thinking about?”

             Knowing she was caught she muttered “None of your business.”  Grabbing
             the soap again she lathered her hands to wash his arms.  Briskly she
             soaped one arm and then started soaping the other one.  When her fingers
             encountered the chain in his hand, she visibly flinched from it.

             Noting her reaction Angelus smiled.  Reaching out with his other hand he
             began to caress her collar.  His fingers played over the surface of the
             jewel.  It was a priceless stone, beautiful and rare, but it palled
             significantly in comparison to the woman who wore it.  He had always been
             a collector of beautiful things and Buffy Summers had to be the most
             exquisite thing he had ever owned.

             He loved seeing her in jewels.  He always had.  Just remembering the time
             he had her draped in nothing but ropes and ropes of jewels made his
             eyelids droop sensually.  Mentally he shook his head.  There would be
             plenty of time later to play the devoted courtier who presents tokens of
             his affection to his lady fair, but right now this was more fun.

             He loved being an asshole to her!

             Buffy felt more and more uncomfortable as the minutes dragged by.  She
             felt so vulnerable sitting on him, naked except for the jewelry, bathing
             him like a hedonistic aristocrat of centuries past.  Every movement she
             made in washing him caused her to be awash in longing.  She could feel
             her flesh rub against his taut stomach and she could feel the chain dig
             into her own private jewel.

             “Tell me again, why did you leave?”

             Her hands stilled in the task of washing his neck, and she stiffly drew
             up.  “I thought I made it more than clear to you.  I hated being so
             dependent on this---”

             “You hated being my slave, you hated being so weak, yeah I got the
             point.”  His eyes boring into hers, he asked “Did you try to eradicate
             all things vampire, including myself, that night in Sunnydale solely
             because of the other playthings in my life?”

             Buffy’s vulnerability was writ all too clearly on her
             face.  “Playthings?  That’s what they were?  That’s what I am?”  She felt
             twisted with a sick fury.  “I had had enough of you treating me like
             shit.  It was time for me to start doing my job, you know, slaying?”

             Idly running a hand around her breasts, he cupped and kneaded them,
             delighting in the feel of her nipples growing hard against his
             palm.  Staring at her with hooded eyes, he stated “But you like being
             treated like shit, lover.  In fact, I have never had the pleasure of
             dallying with a mortal who takes to it so well like you do.  Even though
             you are not, and will not be, the only plaything I have, you are the
             best.”

             Tears gathered in her eyes at the truth in his words.  She did like being
             treated like shit.  Not on the surface level, but deep inside.  Maybe it
             was because she came from a broken home, maybe it was because she was
             always expected to do the right thing, or maybe it was because she was
             the Slayer.  Whatever it was, she desired and needed to be broken down
             and molded into whatever image Angelus wanted.

             However, that didn’t mean that she would happily tolerate him screwing
             around on her.  For him to tell her to her face that he would always have
             ‘playthings’ stirred up blinding fury.  Drawing back her arm she slapped
             him in his smug face---hard.  “You want playthings?  Fine.  But I will
             not be one of them!”

             Angelus immediately slapped her back, even harder than she had slapped
             him, causing the side of her head to crash against the wall.  If she had
             been a normal human, it would have broken her neck.  As it was, it would
             definitely leave a nasty bruise on her cheekbone.

             Sitting forward abruptly, he caused the water to slosh out of the tub and
             onto the floor.  Wrapping his hands around her neck, he squeezed with
             just enough pressure to make her feel light-headed.

             “Listen to me and listen to me well:  you are and ALWAYS will be my
             plaything.  If I choose to come to you with some other woman’s come all
             over my cock, not only will you fuck me, but you’ll lick it off if I tell
             you to.  Do you understand?!”

             Clawing at his hands, she gasped “NO!  I deserve...to have...a man who
             wants...just me...if not you...then someone...else...”

             Her words caused him to transform to his demonic visage.  Growling he
             tightened his hold and dunked her under the water.  Her legs and arms
             splashed helplessly before he brought her up again.  Loosening his grip
             from around her neck, he shook her violently while he roared “YOU SAY
             ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN AND I WILL KILL YOU!  YOU WILL NEVER FUCK ANYONE
             ELSE!  EVER!”  Flinging her away from him, he watched dispassionately as
             she coughed and wheezed for breath.

             Buffy leaned heavily against the side of the tub, desperately trying to
             draw in breath.  The black spots dancing in her vision subsided and she
             was soon able to draw in enough oxygen to her tortured lungs.  Her hair
             was plastered to her bruised face and she winced when she ran her fingers
             through her scalp to pull it off her face.

             In a hoarse voice she dully said “Bastard.  I pray for the night you turn
             your back to me.  When you do I promise you’ll be ash flying in the air.”
 

             “Nah, I don’t think so lover.  You can’t kill me, remember?  You love me
             too much.”  The demon visage left his features and he transformed to
             looking human once again.

             Dazedly focusing on him she said, “Unfortunately for me, you don’t feel
             the same.”

             “Oh baby I would never kill you.”  Pausing he corrected “Unless you
             fucked someone other than me, that is.”

             Gesturing to the vivid purple bruises on her neck that creeped up above
             the collar, she asked “So what the hell would you call this?  Looks like
             attempted murder to me.”  Buffy broke into a hacking cough, grasping the
             side of the tub harder.

             Lifting her to straddle him again, Angelus ran his hands tenderly over
             her back.  Inching her forward until her neck was close to his mouth, he
             delicately kissed the abused flesh.  “Don’t you see how perfectly you
             belong to me?  Don’t you feel the passion between us?  Why does it matter
             what I do elsewhere as long as we have this?”

             Dragging in a shaky breath, she whispered “It does matter to me.  I
             shouldn’t have to share, even a jerk like you.  If I can’t play, why
             should you be able to?”

             Lightly biting her abraded skin, he ignored her hiss of pain.  “Because I
             can.  YOU can’t.  It’s as simple as that.”

             “So I’m just one of your whores, is that right?”

             “Like I told you before, you’re MY whore.  How many I have is none of
             your concern.”  Moving his lips to her soft nipples he flicked his tongue
             around them a few times before they pebbled in his mouth.  He soaked in
             her delightful cries of pleasure as he bit and licked her lush breasts.

             “You have no right---”

             Pressing his lips against her he broke in with “I have every right.  I
             control things here, got it babe?  As long as I come back to your bed,
             what I do out of it isn’t up for debate.  Understand?”

             Losing herself in the magic of his mouth she gasped “Angelus,
             please...it’s not right---”  Buffy harshly cried out when she felt him
             ferociously bite both nipples.  “Alright I understand!”  He immediately
             licked and nuzzled them in reward.
             Triumph gleaming brightly in his eyes he leaned back against the tiled
             wall.  “Good girl.  I don’t want to hear anymore of your bitching about
             Cynthia or Druscilla or any other silly sluts.”

             Swallowing down the resentment and hurt she felt at his high-handedness,
             Buffy avoided looking into his eyes.  Where the hell did her spirit go
             when it came to him?  He just about choked the life from her and not only
             did she not even kill him for it, she just docilely agreed to be apart of
             his harem and not complain about it.

             Score:  Angelus 2  Buffy 0

             Being an expert at human suffering Angelus could see the self-contempt
             rising within her.  She was probably wondering how she could accept an
             animal such as himself controlling her life.  He knew that rubbing her
             nose in the knowledge of his other women hurt her, but that was the
             point.

             He couldn’t deny that he liked variety when it came to women, but that
             wasn’t really why he screwed around.  It was an issue of pride.  He
             couldn’t be seen as “tied down” to any woman, much less the Slayer.  He
             couldn’t let her think that she had that strong of a hold on him.

             The fact that he just told her in no uncertain terms that he still
             planned on seeing others hurt her considerably and he knew that.  While a
             tiny, disgusting part of him balked at his cruelness, it wasn’t strong
             enough to change his course.

             Shifting his attention back to her, he saw her rising off of
             him.  Grabbing the trailing end of her leash, he stopped her from getting
             out of the tub.  “Buffy, where do think you’re going?  You’ve not
             finished with my bath.”

             With a bowed head and slumped shoulders she heavily sat back down.  Just
             when she didn’t think she could feel any worse heartbreak than what she
             felt before, it got worse.

             Listlessly she grabbed the bar of soap and twisted her body to soap his
             long, sinewy legs.  Even the chain rubbing against her was not enough to
             raise her out of self-pity.

             Pathetic, that’s what she was.

             A freakin’ pathetic nutcase like the ones you saw on Springer.  The guy
             treats the girl like a piece of trash and she stupidly goes back for
             more. The girl is so out of touch with what healthy relationships are
             supposed to be about, that she can’t see what is so wrong with her own
             situation.

             She just yells back and forth with her jerk, and at the end of the show,
             makes all sorts of empty ultimatums but still goes back with him, feeling
             like she’s keeping a prize.

             What made her own life even worse was that she couldn’t plead ignorance.
             Buffy knew that this relationship was detrimental to her self-esteem, but
             she couldn’t stop.  Hell, she left Sunnydale in the hopes of escape, but
             two years hadn’t changed anything.

             There wasn’t a night that went by that she didn’t hope, deep in her soul,
             for the chance to see him again.  Even after all the shit that he put her
             through.  When he walked through her door a few hours before, she didn’t
             fight that hard against him.  In fact it really couldn’t be termed a
             fight, more like a struggle just to soothe her conscious.

             And here she was, washing his feet like an houri in a harem.  All her
             spurts of fire and independence were just that:  spurts lacking real
             substance.  Every encounter with him was a contest in which she lost
             another piece of her soul.

             Finally meeting his eyes again, she asked “Do you want me to wash your
             hair?”

             Idly playing with the chain he said “Yes, but make sure you keep the suds
             out of my eyes.  You know how I hate that to happen.”

             Jerk!  Reminding her of another past incident of submission!  If she had
             more fight in her she would purposely pour a whole bottle of shampoo in
             his cursed eyes and watch him howl with pain.  Strangely, it seemed a
             little funny how shampoo could cause a two year old and a two-hundred
             forty-five year old vampire to act the same way.

             Standing up she had to lean slightly towards him to reach the bottle of
             strawberry scented shampoo.  When she did she felt Angelus give the
             slightest lick on her chain and the surrounding flesh.  Looking down at
             him she stared at him in surprise.  As badly as she was feeling, and
             still feeling, she was astonished that her body could feel anything at
             that moment.

             Sitting back down she set the bottle on the edge of the tub.  Scooping
             her hands together she poured water over his hair until it was thoroughly
             wet.  Flipping open the lid on the bottle, she poured a healthy drop into
             her palm and rubbed it into his hair.  Massaging his scalp until his head
             was a froth a white lather, she listened to him purr in contentment.

             Murmuring for him to close his eyes, she poured water over his head until
             all the lather was washed out.  Then she finger-combed his hair until it
             was all pushed off his forehead.  By this point the water had cooled down
             considerably, enough so that she began to shiver slightly.
             Ignoring her shivering, he commanded “Kiss me.”

             Staring into his eyes all she could see was a tiny reflection of
             herself.  That’s how she felt:  tiny and insignificant.  If only there
             could be something more than just lust and possessiveness...

             But there never would be.  This was her reality, all she would ever have
             with him.

             Leaning forward Buffy pressed her lips ever so softly upon his hard,
             unyielding mouth.  Pulling back she saw no change in his
             expression.  Pressing her mouth against his once more, she traced his
             lips with the tip of her tongue until his mouth opened.  Groaning
             slightly, she gripped his wide shoulders tightly and began to rub her
             sensitive breasts against his chest.

             All too quickly traitorous desire pounded fiercely through her body.  She
             ached to have him touch her everywhere.  She ached to have him soothe her
             pain.  She needed to lose herself in their passion.

             Yet he wouldn’t touch her with his hands.  He only played with the leash,
             the quiet clinking of the metal sliding through his fingers, audible
             reminders of what she was to him.

             “Angelus...Angelus...”  Desperately she kissed his strong jaw, his
             temple, his eyes, and his neck, always returning back to his mouth.  The
             heated coursing of her need pounded her body without mercy.  Every kiss
             she placed fanned her lust, every movement she made caused the chain to
             slide against the core of her desire.

             Angelus could feel the frenzy that was overtaking Buffy’s body.  His
             coldness only seemed to inflame her.  Her short nails dug into his
             shoulders, while she panted and mewled against his neck.  When she bit
             down, he had to refrain from letting out a grunt of pleasure.

             He could see that her passion was not just born out of sexual desire but
             also out of the desire to forget his words, to forget what she thought
             she meant to him.  But, demon that he was, he could not let Buffy forget.
 

             Scooting a little further down his body, she began to rain kisses on his
             sleekly muscled chest.  This caused his erection to be rubbed between her
             ass cheeks.  Strongly sucking his nipples, Buffy began to bounce lightly
             against him.  She delighted in feeling his shaft rub against the tiny,
             puckered hole of her anus.  It had been so long since he introduced her
             to that wicked way of loving...

             Not even waiting for Angelus to respond, Buffy slid down a little further
             and lifted her hips to impale herself on his cock.  Just when his smooth,
             marble head pierced her his hands gripped her waist, stopping their
             joining. Writhing, Buffy tried to force herself down on him but his grip
             was as hard as steel.

             Making a tsking noise, Angelus looked into her frustrated face.  “No, not
             just yet baby.  I want to hear three little words from you.  If you don’t
             say it---you don’t get it.”

             Gasping she said “I love you.”

             Devilishly he grinned.  “I’m afraid that’s not right.  I want to hear you
             say ‘I’m your whore’.”

             Knowing she shouldn’t be shocked at his cruelty, she still recoiled from
             his words.  Shaking her head, she tried to ignore the feel of him inside
             her.

             “Say it Buff.  Say ‘I’m---your---whore’.”  Angelus lifted her up and down
             only minutely, but enough that she began to pant with desire.

             Her tattered pride bled with her words, but say them she
             did:  “I’m...your...WHORE!”  Her whisper ended with a shout when Angelus
             impaled her pussy on his cock.  The pain in her heart grew along with her
             sexual desire as Angelus continued to torment her.

             “That’s right lover, MY whore.  A whore with no rights...”  Slam and
             thrust.

             Twisting both of her nipples until she cried out from the raw pain, he
             grunted “You like being my slut?”

             Squeezing her eyes shut, Buffy breathed “No, I hate it.”  Slam and
             thrust.

             Jerking her leash down until their lips were mere inches apart, he
             growled “Liar.  Admit it:  you love being my slut, bitch, or whatever I
             choose to make you.”  Not giving her a chance to deny it, he captured her
             lips and began to devour her passion-bruised mouth.

             Their hips frantically churned against each other as they both fell to
             their destructive passion.  Buffy rode Angelus as furiously as Angelus
             pumped into Buffy.  Their cries grew in intensity and the cold water
             splashed out of the tub to soak the floor, but neither noticed.

             They were both lost and damned by each other.

             Angelus suddenly stood up and Buffy wrapped her arms and legs around his
             torso in order to cling to him.  Expecting him to step out of the tub,
             she was surprised to feel her body slam back against the cool tiles of
             the bathtub walls.

             Moving his arms down, he hooked a leg on each forearm, leaving Buffy
             completely stretched open.  Savagely he started to pound into her body,
             filling her with his special brand of pain and pleasure.  With each slam
             of his hips, not only did his cock touch the mouth of her womb, but he
             dug the waist chain deeper against her.

             Clutching the back of his head, she began to cry as the sensations became
             too intense.  This only seemed to incite Angelus to double his efforts;
             he lifted and pulled her against him as if she were weightless.

             In no time at all the pain outweighed the pleasure.  “Angelus
             stop.  You’re hurting me.”  When he didn’t respond, she began to beat at
             his shoulders.  “Stop it damn you!”

             His movements never even faltered.  Relentlessly he sawed in and out of
             her, relishing in her sobs of anguish.  It was as if his momentary
             weakness with love had never been.  He needn’t worry about loving the
             Slayer, all he needed to worry about was screwing her.

             Tired of hearing her whining, he pulled out of her and tossed her onto
             the floor.  In a flash he was straddled on her face and prying her mouth
             open.  He then shoved his cock into her warm mouth and thrust his hips
             back and forth.  For several minutes, he fucked her lovely mouth,
             delighting over the sounds of her gagging and muffled tears.

             “You are nothing more than a fuck to me Slayer.”  Each word was
             punctuated by a thrust.

             “You are just a toy, my fucktoy.”  More thrusting and gagging.

             “You are just a pretty whore to me Buffy.”  Quick and uncontrolled
             thrusting.

             “Just...a...fuck...”  Angelus then shouted from the power of his climax,
             his hand on her jaw forcing Buffy to swallow all of his dead semen.

             Getting off her, he leaned against the toilet and watched her curl into a
             ball.  He could only guess at what she was exactly feeling, but he was
             sure that she felt like shit.  Just as he planned.

             Score:  Angelus 3  Buffy 0.

             Buffy’s soft sobs echoed in the small bathroom.  She felt so sick.

             So dirty and used.

             The sticky taste of his semen wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she
             swallowed.  God, what did she ever do to deserve this?  What perverted
             sense of humor did He have to allow her to fall in love with one of the
             fallen?  It was so horrible to feel so degraded, to allow oneself to be
             so degraded. She had the strength to fight him back, so why didn’t she?

             She never wanted to have to look into his face again.  She didn’t want to
             see the malicious glee burning in his dark eyes.  Without thinking, she
             got up to run out of there.  Quickly she was brought up short by the
             painful yank on her bruised neck.  Turning around she saw the golden
             glimmer he held up in his hand.

             And she saw nothing but mocking pity in his eyes at her humiliation.

             Something finally snapped in her.  Immediately she fell upon him with
             powerful fists, connecting with his flesh with every blow.  Several times
             she banged his head against the hard porcelain of the toilet, feeling
             satisfaction with each grunt of pain that he made.

             Angelus didn’t fight back for several moments, allowing her to vent her
             anger, but finally he had enough.  His first few blows made little
             impression on her, but after several hits to her midsection and one to
             her pubic bone, Buffy bent over in excruciating agony.

             “I didn’t want to hurt you Buff---well I did, but not like that.”

             “Funny...I don’t believe you, but let me ask anyways.  Why did you?”

             “Because you make it soo easy, lover.  Besides, I had to punish you.”

             “For what?  Daniel?”

             “No, that was for biting me.  I’ve got a long list of grievances against
             you Slayer.  Daniel, while being a big one, has to wait in line.”

             “I’ve never hated you as much as I do now.”  Buffy coldly stated between
             gasps of pain.

             “I’m sure.”

             Picking up her unresisting body, he held her securely against his
             chest.  He knew when to torment and when to cease.  It was now time to
             switch to another tactic.

             “I don’t love you Angelus.  Not anymore.”

             Smugly smiling, he thought ‘We’ll just have to see about that, my darling
             Slayer.  We’ll just have to see.”  With that, he walked out of the
             bathroom and towards the couch, already anticipating what he would do to
             Buffy next.